


Cemetery Smooches

by Kymopoleia



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: 'slap me pull my hair touch me there and there and there', F/M, are we really surprised, but it's short and beautiful ok, she's not interested in gentle, yes i know it's short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 16:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10193618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Kymopoleia
Summary: After the presentation, Veronica needs a little TLC. Sadly, she's not interested.





	

After the bogus lunchtime presentation and the cameras, Veronica cuts JD off with a kiss and drags him to the car to cut school at the cemetery. She doesn’t let him get a word in, merely stomping her foot on the gas and cranking the abused radio knobs up as high as they’d go. She digs her nails into her thigh while she narrows her eyes at the pavement, the world a flurry around her, the anchor being tossed into the crashing waves and dragging the ship down.

She slams into the parking space like a comet into the earth, his stupid words playing through her ears despite the Michael Jackson blasting through her skull. God, she’d been so fucking stupid. They were what killed the dinosaurs, they were above the law, their love was god? She rips the keys out of the ignition after recklessly slamming it into park, turning in her seat like a force of nature.

Jason was looking at her with his lips parted, interested. He hadn’t moved since she shoved him into the car, his seatbelt off and his eyes smoldering.

“Don’t give me that shit.” She rakes her nails through her scalp, practically shaking with need to do something, with anger, with venom for Mrs. Fleming and her bullshit camerawhores. “I don’t need that from you.”

He laughs, shaking his head a bit and holding his hands up. “I didn’t do anything, Veronica.”

Veronica leaned over him and yanked on the lever, his seat dropping and his hands flailing, impeccable mask finally shattering with surprise. Fucking good. She kicks off her shoes and crosses into his half of the car, straddling him and hunching so that her head doesn’t hit the ceiling.

“Is this what we’re coming to? Desperate groping at the cemetery, not sure if we want to be in the car or in the ground?” He hisses, sliding his nails up her bare thighs and catching her underwear. She sneers at him and rakes her nails down his shirt before harshly shoving it up.

“Choke on my dick, JD.” She dips down to run her tongue up his stomach, letting her teeth graze the skin and send shivers up his spine. He smells like gunpowder and she feels like shit.

He slides a hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head gently. “Really now? Can’t do that when you’re all the way down there.”

She nips the bottom of his ribcage, enjoying the yelp in response with a vicious pride.

“Veronica, you’re going to have to talk to me eventually.” He’s starting to get gentle on her, but she’s not ready for it. She needs something rough and hard, she needs to be slapped and ridden and broken and she needs…

She needs to hurt.

She needs to feel bad.

She needs to atone for what she’s done. God, fucking god, three people were dead. Her teen angst bullshit had a body count, and she was grinding on her partner-in-crime’s crotch and sucking hickies into his chest in the hollows of his birdbone ribs.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” She pulls back after a second to lay on him, breath heavy and his hands on her ass. “I shouldn’t still want this. How can you get it up with three deaths on your conscience?”

“Well, my brain and dick didn’t exactly communicate on what’s considered a social faux pas when your girlfriend shoves you around.” He comments, and he’s right. Her head is buzzing, and she needs something to just end the radio chatter.

“Kiss me.”

“Are you sure about that? Veronica, you’re acting weird.” He’s still concerned, she’d be touched if the world wasn’t imploding in her mind, if she still had gunpowder on her fingertips and shame on her lips.

She crashes them together, two of his fingers slip into her underwear, and it all comes to a halt for a sweet, sweet few minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> so i know this is short but i didn't want to write any more and it felt good as is?
> 
> i do drabble commissions thru spookyghostnerd.tumblr.com for 7$ a drabble 3-6k, if anyone's interested in seeing something but don't have the motivation to write it themselves


End file.
